They weren’t vain. They weren’t shallow. No smartphones. No Facebook. No Instagram. All too likely to turn them into narcissists. They understood. They sneered at the posturing and posing of their contemporaries, the twelve-year-old girls in mascara puckering into camera lenses, the misguided fools on talent shows. They got it, her girls. They absolutely got it.
They weren’t weird, Adele thought now, looking at them in turn. They were magnificent.
This book has just further confirmed why being a bookworm who doesn’t associate with people besides close friends and family is just fine for me.
From page one (with most psychological thrillers) I was convinced that I’d know what was going on. I thought I could read in between the lines and see what the other characters couldn’t. So, The Girls in the Garden took me by surprise.
This book has deep, dense, weird characters. Everyone’s here, and nobody’s perfect. If you think you know your neighbors, your own spouse, and your own children, think again. Lisa Jewell writes with such great suspense and tone that I was flipping through the pages wondering if this book could get any faster (in the good way, of course).
“But right now, Clare, it might be worth you going home and talking to your daughter’s friends. Find out how well you really knew her.”
At the beginning, I thought Pip was the driving force of this story. The one who watched her sister change into something else and saw what kids could do to one another. But after, I realized, and wondered why I didn’t see it before, that Adele is the driving force of this story.
Because I felt the things Adele felt. When Adele thought she knew something, I thought I did, too. When Adele put pieces together and realized things, I felt like I was there.
A great read that makes you flip the pages and isn’t afraid to give the answers this book asks. And it’s filled with weird, grey characters. :D